Motionless
by lovesickjily
Summary: James Potter always had thought that he was the only person in the world who had the power to stop time, but somehow, just the sight of Lily Evans makes every second feel like an hour. Christmas Jily.


He'd always considered himself a superhero.

No, not _that_ sort of superhero, not the one who was completely for adopting a latex suit of some sort as the most iconic aspect of his or hers— no offence to all of those who _did_ wear such uncomfortable outfits for whatever reason, because such people of power were _all_ bloody awesome, if he did say so himself.

He wasn't going to be slinging spider webs out of his hands any time soon, nor was he going to take any unnaturally giant being out with just the sheer force of his bare hands, though either of such would have been absolutely _wicked_ considering the fact that he practically _idolised_ such men since he'd been a child.

No, if one were to compare him to the likes of the larger-than-life characters, well, then he'd just be James. He _was_ James, in fact. James Potter, who probably _looked_ to be living that Clark Kent double-life, if he was to be judged by his outward appearance, what with his glasses and messier-than-should-be-allowed hair, but he _didn't_ stop menacing villains on the side, simply because he was definitely _not_ a superhero.

It didn't matter that he thought that he was just about cool enough to _be_ a hero, or if he demonstrated courage through his more-than-reckless stunts that he pulled with his best mates daily, or if his kindness could be shown through helping his mum with the chores everyday, or even the mere fact that he'd somehow been born with the ability to stop time at whichever moment and time he wanted. He was _not_ that sort of superhero.

 _Er,_ well.

At least he _wanted_ to convince himself that that sort of superhero life wouldn't work, but alas, words carried a much different power than actions did.

In truth, he found himself stopping time for _good_ reasons, like the occasional stopping time to catch someone who had been so obviously cheating on an exam. Yes, _justice_ had been served that one time he'd done that, because it meant that those who had actually _worked_ for their grades wouldn't be put to shame by the fact that some cheater had scored just about as high as _they_ did. If he ever had the chance though, he'd definitely use his powers for the greater good, but because this wasn't New York City, he was _not_ be to greeted by the likes of King Kong or the Green Goblin any time soon. And honestly, thank _heavens_ for that.

He would have absolutely _hated_ to use his powers for something as horrible as stealing from the bank— which he _honestly_ had no need to do, considering the immense wealth that his parents carried and gave him access to— or taking horrible advantage of unsuspecting women— he even _shuddered_ to think about doing such a thing.

 _Most_ of the time, anyway.

It wasn't as if he _hadn't_ used the power to his advantage when playing tricks on his friends, who were none the wiser whenever he _planned_ a surprise 'attack,' because there wasn't even much they could do in defence of themselves, anyway. He could have warned them that he was about to pull a prank on them, but what would it matter if they couldn't do a thing while frozen in place? It _did_ feel unfair though, and so he'd taken to doing it less often than he'd used to, not to mention the fact that it got a bit old after the first hundreds of times that he'd done it. Well, _somewhat_ old, because it was still funny to see Sirius fall on his face whenever he tied his laces together, but the pranks weren't enough for his mate to make the decision to invest in the disgrace that was velcro.

And James wasn't _stupid_ either, because he used his ability for _practical_ purposes too. Take, for instance, when the alarm for early classes went off, he'd simply just freeze time to catch up on all of the sleep that he wanted, or if he pushed an assignment off to the very last day, he easily used his abilities to give him all the time in the world to finish it in ample time.

He remembered when he was little, he froze time to eat all of the ice cream he wanted at the local ice cream shop, an action that his mother was strictly opposed against when she'd found out because she wanted him to eat healthy meals and grow up into a strong man. He'd gotten a horrible stomach ache afterwards, but the ice cream was bloody _delicious,_ so it was honestly well worth it, especially when he supposed that he _did_ grow up well. His face in the mirror proved it.

It was nice to reflect in this sort of weather, he mused. The sky had darkened immensely, having a tendency of some sort to turn as black as coal during the month of November at five in the afternoon, though the stars had yet to come out, not wanting to shine for him, most likely because he was _not_ a superhero and therefore not worth shining for. That was understandable, really.

He liked walking home in the natural quietness, and one thing that he absolutely _hated_ with his powers was that if it ever got too noisy, he could easily mute all sounds in the world, because as much as it _seemed_ to be peaceful, it just felt _odd_ to be walking in a world without a single sound, without a single movement, without a single laugh filling the air. And he supposed that it kind of sort of _did_ feel lonely whenever he froze time when he thought about how he was the only person who was breathing at those moments.

He never tried to overthink on the technicalities of his abilities either, not unless he wanted to suffer from a headache that would last for hours, because even now, at nineteen years, he _still_ had no idea how or why he'd gotten such a power. Perhaps the universe had been drinking when it had come to that decision, because it had chosen _him_ out of all of its worthy options, but at least it didn't make _too_ bad of a settlement if he wasn't bloody exploitingit for evil purposes.

He hummed softly to himself, simply because whistling was too ominous a sound to be making in the darkness, and he ignored the franticness of all of the people around him as they scurried to get home, an action that was quite understandable considering the prison-like work conditions that they faced every day with a nine-to-five job. He hoped that wherever life took him, it wouldn't take him to the restraints that such jobs held.

The pedestrian lights were red, a sign that he was to wait until the street was cleared, and he was nearly tempted to stop time then and there just to cross the street without any waiting time, but he didn't want to abuse his powers for a matter that was just as insignificant as this, knowing that there were people who would have _killed_ to have such a cool ability. Yeah, he was going to wait for the sign to turn green. It was honestly the least he could really do.

When he _did_ cross the street, in the fairest manner possible, he rounded the corner, knowing each and every time that he had to take, and if he was ever tied up in a chair and told to recreate a map of London, he'd most definitely be able to get it all down to the last detail.

And as he strolled down the street, not a single worry or concern on his mind, he caught sight of red, a very dark red colour that seemed unmatched for another other shade of red that he'd ever seen in his life simply because it was _so_ pretty, and undoubtedly if she were to turn in his direction, _she'd_ be pretty. She was crossing to the other side of the street, not a single car on this particular road, and he _would_ have gone on with his life, seeing as it was _completely_ stalkerish of him to be observing her even though he had absolutely _no_ right to do so, had it not been for the sudden truck that had veered in from the intersecting street.

It hadn't even seemed to _attempt_ to slow down, definitely not seeing the redhead on the street, but if James was gauging the driver's facial reactions properly, then it seemed that the man had no power to stop it, and from his jerking motions it seemed he was trying his hardest to unjam one of the pedals. The truck wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

What was _worse_ though, was the fact that the woman was _right_ in the middle of the street, and the truck was _so_ bloody close that even if she had all the speed in the world, she'd _still_ be unable to avoid a collision with the vehicle. No, no, _no._ He could _not_ let her die like that, not if he could help it, but just bearing _witness_ to such an event, an event that he'd always hoped could end up with a person being saved by _his_ hands, caused anxiety to rage up within him.

 _Fuck._ What if he somehow, at this very instance, lost his powers, and any efforts that he took would be for naught? No, _don't_ think that. He could bloody do it, no matter how frozen the sight made him, no matter how much his hands shook at fear that he'd let someone die when he could have saved him.

This was _far_ scarier than he'd ever imagined.

And with each passing second, the truck seemed to be moving _faster,_ and the driver had seemed to have covered his eyes in fear that he was going to _kill_ her. James could _not_ let that happen, and at the very last second, he'd nearly thought that he'd heard the sound of a crash, but to see that she was definitely _not_ lying on the ground meant that his brain had already started conjuring up false sounds to terrify him even more. It was enough for a _snap_ to ring out in the air, and the world grew silent, no slams, no tire brakes, just the sound of his heart pounding against his chest, begging to be freed so that it could witness if he'd assisted in an innocent person's death.

He hadn't even realised that his eyes had been closed, but when he opened them again, he saw that the truck and its driver had been completely still. What scared him, _terrified_ him, was the fact that the woman was so clearly shaking with fright, and—

No, that couldn't be right. _Nobody_ was able to move when he froze time, nobody but himself, but there she was, her head whirling around as she took in the sight of the frozen world around her, and when her eyes— green and beautiful and lovely and filled with every single emotion concerning fear— fell upon his, they widened, and before doing anything else, she quickly moved out of the way of the truck, as if it would suddenly roar back to life to crash into her like a wave against the sandy shore.

It was as if her eyes held some sort of spell themselves, because the sight of her, _so_ much more beautiful than he could ever imagined, sent shooting stars racing through his heart, and he suddenly felt as if he couldn't move, as if _she_ could stop time herself. From the way she'd reacted to his abilities, though, it seemed that it was only all in his head, because he didn't think that he could be _thinking_ if that was the case.

He watched her carefully, and she hesitated at first before ultimately deciding to approach him, the only _other_ person able to move in an otherwise still world. She stopped a good few feet in front of him, holding her umbrella out in front of her as if it was a sword. "Who _are_ you?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to take on a fearless tone, and he couldn't help but show surprise at her response.

He didn't expect her to fall onto her knees out of complete gratitude or anything elaborate of that sort, but in his many scenarios that he'd conjured up as how he was to save a person's life in the most extreme way, none of them featured the girl threatening to poke his _eye_ out with an umbrella. "I don't think my identity is important right now," he told her, more out of fear that she'd call the cops on him for whatever reason, "Are you all right?"

"Is _he_ all right?" she responded, her words stressed with urgency, and she pointed back at the bloke in the truck.

"He's fine." He waved it off dismissively. "I'm asking about _you."_

"He's bloody frozen in place!"

"And you almost got hit by a truck!" he shot back, and he flinched, not exactly liking that he'd raised a voice at a complete stranger who most definitely was _not_ in the wrong, "Er, sorry. I just— how exactly are you still moving?"

She looked at him as if he was insane. "Are you to say that I'm _not_ supposed to be moving _?_ "

He gulped, hopefully not too visibly, because _he_ had the upper hand here. _He_ had the ability to stop time, and yet, she was somehow immune to it, for whatever reason unbeknownst to him. _How_ the actual _fuck_ was she immune? Never in his life had he ever met anyone who _hadn't_ been affected by his abilities, and yet there she was, her eyes glaring at him as she demanded an answer from him. "I reckon you can answer that for yourself." He motioned towards the rest of the quiet world.

"I _can't,_ actually, considering the fact that there's absolutely _no_ scientific reason that could explain why _nothing_ in the world is moving except for us. I mean, theoretically, shouldn't we be dead if _nothing_ is moving? Shouldn't we be at absolute zero if that was the case? I just—" She stopped, her eyes widening, and when she spoke again, her voice was higher with much more panic. "What _exactly_ is going on?"

He didn't know how to answer her, and he merely looked back at her.

She seemed to lose her balance then, landing onto her knees as her hands flew up to her mouth at just how overwhelming it all was. "This _can't_ be possible. I should be dead right now. No one can _possibly_ be able to stop time. Oh god, I'm going insane."

He edged towards her, slowly, like one would approach a startled animal, and when he was looming over her, he reached a hand out awkwardly, patting her on the shoulder because he didn't know what to do with someone who was so evidently distraught by being a first-hand witness to his abilities. "I can assure you that you're not dead, _nor_ are you crazy."

"No, I _know_ I'm not crazy," she responded, and she looked at him with her eyes, the green seeming to pierce into his soul, "I— The thing is, I've _been_ in these frozen times before. I'll be talking to my friend, and the next thing that I know, she stops _moving._ I've been _witness_ to all of this before, and it's just— it's just _terrifying_ yet so _relieving_ to know that it's not be behind all of this. _Terrifying_ mostly, but _god."_

He merely blinked at her confession. It was _his_ turn to be surprised now— fuck, wait, no. It was his turn to be even _more_ surprised now. "You've been able to do this _all_ your life?"

"Have _you_ been able to stop time all of your life?"

" _Yes,"_ he said in exasperation, "Listen, I'd _love_ to go back and forth about our abilities, but I'm sure it's just as disconcerting for you as it is for me for time to be frozen for this long."

"Then undo it!" she exclaimed before her eyes quickly softened at her outrage, "Please?"

He nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I— _fuck—_ How do I undo it without giving the driver a heart attack?"

She stared up at him, and if he could, he would have thrown all caution to the wind and stared at her forever, but he wasn't a creep, _nor_ was that practical considering their situation. Before he knew what had happened, she had thrown him right over her person so that he was hovering above her, his legs spread on both sides of her and her eyes boring right into his. "Like this."

"What— what the hell are you doing?" he asked her, but she stayed in that position.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied, and no, it was _not_ bloody obvious, because it'd been so long since he'd last had a girlfriend and just the sight of such a gorgeous woman was making his heart nervous, what with the implications that were swarming about with him right over her. "This is the solution to not giving the driver a 'heart attack,' as you'd so put it."

 _He_ was going to get a heart attack, if anything. "I don't get it," he told her weakly, as if their positions _were_ making his heart physically weaker.

She sighed deeply. "It's so that the driver would think that you saved me."

"Oh."

He was sure that if they'd spent hundreds of years stuck in time, he would never— not even _once—_ come up with an idea that was as smart as her own solution to this problem, and without hesitation, he sent the world filled with sound and movement once again, the sound of the truck's horn filling his airs as it rushed past them.

It was funny really, how he'd paused and unpaused the world at least a hundred times already, yet he could still not bring himself to get over the difference in how much _louder_ the world was when it was action in comparison to the still world that he got to experience for himself. Her eyes had fallen shut at the sound as she flinched, and when the ugly screech of the tires filled the air, he knew that the driver had managed to work his brakes once again, taking control of the vehicle as it finally came to a halt.

She'd taken to holding on to him, most likely out of more than anything else, which was understandable, really, considering the fact that this giant man-made vehicle had _almost_ killed, _would_ have killed her if he'd come maybe a second too late. There was no power that he held in which he could reverse time and go back, no matter how little seconds he needed, because what was done was done, and at least with _his_ abilities, he could _save_ time.

It didn't change the fact that their closeness was sending a thrill to his heart, a closeness that was quickly ripped away when the sounds of the driver's heavy footsteps rumbled down the street as he came to make sure that she was okay. "I'm so sorry! Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I? The brakes got stuck, and—"

The poor bloke seemed to be shaking with fear out of the fact that had he hit her, he would have been charged with vehicular manslaughter and would have had to spend many of his days in prison. There was at least _some_ obligation in the franticness of his words.

"I'm fine," she managed, and she made a light attempt to push him off of her, but it was enough for James to get the message and pull off of her, "He saved my life."

The driver's eyes darted over to James, who had gotten up from the ground and was now holding his hand out to the woman. "That's good to hear."

She nodded at him, trembling a bit, and the driver turned around, eager to get away from an avoided crime scene. She put her hand in James's, accepting it, and he pulled her up so that they were both standing. "I suppose I haven't thanked you for saving me yet. I'm sorry, by the way, for snapping at you the way I did."

He shrugged. "It's fine. Understandable, really, when these powers are actually hard to grasp."

The corner of her lip rose slightly. "Thank you, though. I don't know how else to explain to you that I'm _so_ thankful for you being there."

"You _are_ all right, aren't you? Heard that three times in the last— shit, I don't even _know_ how to describe the time that passed— few moments, but I just want to be sure."

"Yeah. I— yeah," she replied, taking in a deep breath, "I'm fine. _Really."_

He probably didn't look convinced at her words, judging from the way she was looking at him, and before he could fully process the next few seconds, it was like time had frozen despite him not moving a finger, because he suddenly felt her lips falling against his cheek without any warning whatsoever. He was fully aware of how much his cheek was burning from just her touch, just a sweet and innocent gratuitous kiss, yet it seemed to be spreading down throughout his body, like how a single spark could ignite an entire building.

It was probably the _only_ aspect in his superhero fantasies that had played out, and when she pulled away, landed effectively back onto the flats of her feet, she gave him a small smile before turning around to leave. He stood in shock for a few moments, as if she really _had_ frozen him, and it wasn't until she was near the other side of the street that he'd snapped back to his senses. "Wait!" She turned around, and he took it as a cue to rush up towards her. "I— You're not saying this is it, are you?"

She looked at him in concern. "Sorry?"

"Swear I don't feel entitled to your affections, but it's just that I'd like to see you again sometime."

Her head tilted to the side in confusion. "I think with your abilities, we'll see each other soon."

He nodded. "What's your name?"

"Did you say identification wasn't important right now?"

"Well, yeah, but that was then, and—" He stopped, cutting himself off, because he wasn't even _sure_ if she wanted to see him again before ultimately deciding to continue. "I dunno, it's just that it's hard to _not_ bond with someone who shares something with you."

"And what do we share? A near-death experience? Or is it the fact that we've somehow got the abilities to not be affecting by time stopping?"

"Both, I reckon, only I'd like to be _optimistic_ about this and see the bright side of things."

His words finally brought out a pretty smile from her, and he found that he quite liked the curve of her lips. "Lily."

"That's a strange reply," he joked, and when she rolled her eyes, he added, "It's pretty. Lily. Yeah, that's a pretty name. If you like the name James, I reckon we both share pretty names as well, except I think yours is far prettier."

"Your constant use of the same adjective makes me question the authenticity of your compliment."

"Why? I think it just goes to emphasize _just_ how pretty I think your name is. That among other things."

"Like how pretty _your_ name is?"

"Sure. You could say that, but really, it's just to show just how in awe I am of your utter beauty. Like, _wow,_ you goddess."

She smiled sweetly at him. "I should get going now. It's getting late."

"What's the rush?"

"An impending fear that another truck will materialise in front of me, and you won't be there to stop time."

"Yeah, you got me there," he said, his lips curving upwards, "I'll see you, yeah?"

She nodded. "Bye, James."

And as she walked away, he stood there pondering what the bloody _fuck_ just happened, but there was one thing for sure: he was _definitely_ a superhero like the likes of Spider-Man and Captain America.

Or, perhaps more fittingly, he wanted to _be_ a superhero if it meant that he'd save her once again. If it meant that he'd _see_ her once again.

* * *

He didn't think he ever felt as strongly as he did for the redhead who began to frequent his dreams and his mind nearly every second of every day as with any other woman who crossed his path.

He didn't find himself freezing time all that often, but when he did, he wondered if she thought about him whenever she found herself stuck in a frozen world as well, and that mere thought made him feel at least a little less lonely. It was quite lovely, actually, how in those frozen moments, just as if they were stuck in a still picture, they were the only people breathing life into an otherwise silent world.

Meeting her, it seemed, made him at least a million times more poetic than he'd ever thought he could ever be.

The breeze that was November quickly blew over until the month on the calendar turned into December, and every street that he crossed from uni every day became holiday-filled, with the merry Santas and the jolly snowmen greeting the sights of every person who walked by. It was strange, he marvelled, at how just a refreshing change in scenery seemed to brighten the moods of every person, and even though James hadn't seen Lily since that horrible night where she'd almost made eye contact with the likes of Death, he still found himself walking with a light flourish in every single one of his steps.

The thing with winter was that magic seemed to be more of a prospective force that swirled about in the air, simply because it _was_ a force that was present in this time, appearing as the natural phenomenon that was snow. He'd always loved snow, always loved freezing time in the dead of winter, because there was just something _so_ beautiful about the little crystallines suspended in the air, as if they were being hung up by a string in a children's Christmas production. He didn't know _why_ exactly he'd chosen to freeze time at this very second, but he did, and the snow, which had been falling down as flurries, ceased to move, involuntarily choosing to decorate the open air the way one would decorate a Christmas tree.

There was no problem in his movements either, because walking forward would just make the little dots melt right onto him, but it wasn't too hard to stop to admire each of their unique, individual shapes, a feat that most people were unable to see because they melted far too quickly before they could properly pay the attonage that such works of nature begged for.

With his ability, though, he had all the time in the world to give nature all of the appreciating that it wanted.

The crunch in the snow snapped him out of his thoughts, though he wasn't scared at all, because the sounds were an indication of the person who he so desperately wanted to see again, and so he calmly turned around, bracing himself for the beauty that he was inevitably going to see.

No amount of preparation could truly _ever_ prepare him for the sight of her, because the snow in her hair made her look like an absolute _angel,_ decorating the strands as if they were a crown of some sort, and the coldness had left a rosy tint in her cheeks. There was a scarf wrapped around her neck, and she looked to be the epitome of all that winter embodied. When his eyes met hers, she beamed at him, a sort of smile that caused a light to shine in her eyes and crinkles to appear.

"I _knew_ I was going to see you today," she told him, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice, "The first snow of the year is _always_ the best snow of the year."

"Correction: _every_ snow of the year is _always_ the best snow of the year."

"Does that mean that I'll see you each snowfall?"

"If that's what makes it the best snow, then yeah."

Her smile seemed to grow exponentially at his words. "I usually get _terrified_ whenever time freezes, but right now, it really _does_ feel like a Winter Wonderland. How have you been? Have you been well?"

"I reckon I am now that you're here," he said, finding it difficult to _not_ be smiling with the contagiousness of her evident joy. "What about you? I mean, _clearly_ you're happy, and that's bloody great, but how have your days been before?"

"I couldn't get you out of my mind," she admitted, and his heart felt as if it was flying right up into the sky, wanting to get lost in the clouds, "There's just _something_ so memorable about a man who can literally make time stop as he so desires."

"I could say the same about you."

"I can't stop time though," she said, and she reached upwards, pulling a snowflake from his hair and watching as it melted in her hand.

"Well, I beg to differ."

"Oh?"

"It feels like time stops whenever I _look_ at you."

Confusion flew across her face. "Time _is_ frozen."

"No, not like— _fuck."_ In one quick motion, he made the snow begin to fall as scheduled once again. "You make it almost like time slows down to _me."_

Comprehension dawned on her face in the form of redness on her cheeks. "You're exaggerating it."

"Not a bit."

She looked _so_ beautiful with the snowflakes tickling her face, decorating the sleeves of her jacket, and her colours— vibrant reds and greens— _reflected_ the merriness of this wonderful time while also contrasting against the stark whiteness of the snow. "James—"

"Can I kiss you?" he asked her, and he wished that it had come naturally for them, but he just couldn't help the words from falling out of his lips, "Only except I've been dreaming for this moment since that night, and only if you want to, obviously."

She didn't answer him— or least, not _immediately—_ only blinking at him, and he so desperately wished that he could freeze time, freeze _her,_ so that he could make his getaway, because it was so obvious that she was going to turn him down, that his request was far too sudden for her to grant. He felt like an absolute idiot, and though he had never intended for his abilities to appear as an attempt to woo the other gender, perhaps it was coming off as such to her.

His hand flew up to his hair when she only continued looking up at him, and he'd nearly begun to give it up, to tell her to forget about it and leave her in the snow, but _right_ when he'd turned around, he heard the sounds of the snow crunching behind him. It was as if the world had quickly spun in front of his eyes, had progressed forward in such a manner that he found it difficult to keep up, because the next thing that he knew, the next thing that his brain was processing was the mere fact that he was _kissing_ her.

He felt warmth enveloping his lips, and in the moment before he'd closed his eyes, he noticed just how slowly the world seemed to be moving for him, as if it had decided to shut down solely for them, as if it had built everything that had ever happened in his life for this event. He was frozen with the coldness of the world, yet she somehow brought heat all throughout him, and that mere fact was comforting enough for him to close his eyes, to bask in the beauty that was _her._

It was short and sweet, and before he knew it, she had pulled away from him, though it didn't change the fact that her eyes seemed brighter than they had been before, didn't change the fact his lips continued to tingle afterwards. "Just so you know, I didn't kiss you because you saved my life."

"I— yeah, no. I know," he let out. _Way_ to be smooth, James. "That's not usually why women kiss me, anyway."

Her eyebrows flew upwards. "Sorry?"

"Shit, I mean, _fuck._ I didn't mean it like that, swear." During times like these, he truly, madly, _deeply_ wished that he instead had the ability to go back in time, but he wasn't going to be picky about the power that the universe deemed him worthy of holding, even if it _did_ turn him into more of an arrogant arse.

Of _course_ the person with whom he'd fumble his words would be the _one_ person who was unaffected by his ability to stop time, and he wished he could melt into a puddle just so as to not bear such embarrassment in front of the one person he wanted to impress. It wasn't until she'd spoke that he'd realised that he was merely being overdramatic, and she said, "I know. I was only messing with you."

"You were— what?"

"Why do _you_ think I kissed you?"

"Shit, I think I'll be digging my own grave no matter what I tell you."

"You won't," she said, and then she gave him a coy smile, "If you want, you could freeze time, and I'll play along so you could make your escape."

"I don't reckon you're really going to let me do that."

She shook her head. "Not at all."

"Then, you kissed me because you find me irresistibly attractive and charming?"

"Are you stating it or asking it?"

"I dunno," he said, shrugging, "I don't want to come off as a self-absorbed prick if I say it like a statement."

"You won't, because you are _very_ much 'irresistibly attractive and charming,' as so you put it," she assured him, and to confirm her words, he watched her stand on the very tips of her toes, reaching up to press another kiss to his lips. It was probably supposed to be brief, but he couldn't help it, securing his arms around her waist as he pulled her closer to him, and— perhaps as ironic emphasis more than anything else— he willed time to stop, the world literally stilling around them.

The snow stopped falling, and the distant blares of the city became mute once more as the only sound that he could focus on was her soft laugh, muffled slightly on his lips. She pulled away _just_ when he'd gotten comfortable. "Did you _really_ just stop time for a kiss?"

"Do you blame me?" he replied, "Really adds on to the magic, I'd say."

Her eyes crinkled in response, and she playfully squeezed his arms. "Turn it _back."_

He watched as snow lighted dotted the top of her hair and felt his lips quirking upwards at the sight, beauty falling right upon beauty. "It's back to normal now, but I swear, once I look into your eyes again it'll just start stopping on its own again."

"For _you,_ maybe. Not for me."

"Yeah? Look into my eyes then. _Tell_ me you're not getting lost in the colours."

She laughed. "You're just going to use your ability on me if I _do_ look at your eyes."

"Maybe," he agreed, "Or maybe I'll just give in and kiss you again with your granted consent."

He watched as her eyes— swirling with fascination and joy— light up even more, perhaps to the point that they could melt the snow right then and there if they so wanted to, at his words, and she was a snowflake of her own, the sort in which she truly _was_ unique, so distinguishable from the rest.

If he could choose a moment to freeze and cherish forever, he would choose this very moment, wanting to capture the breathtaking image of her to engrave onto his brain. And growing in the very depths of his heart was a strong feeling, a feeling that could not lie to him, that told him he'd continue to have many more of these wondrous moments.

Now though, as he grinned down at the beautiful redhead, he was going to put his full heart and mind into ensuring that _she_ was going to enjoy their time together as well.

And time, it seemed, was forever going to be on their side.

He had his ability to prove it, much to the future joy— and occasional chagrin— of Lily.

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